


Rumours

by geezers



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-05
Updated: 2013-09-05
Packaged: 2017-12-25 17:03:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/955575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geezers/pseuds/geezers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill of a <a href="http://footballkink2.livejournal.com/9768.html?thread=4939816#t4939816">prompt</a> from fk2 wherein Fernando and Juan talk about the ridiculous rumours that have been written about them during the summer transfer window.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rumours

“Juan! Have you seen this one?” Fernando asked, showing his younger teammate the screen of his iPhone in the changing room at Cobham. Juan laughed, slapping his thigh heartily before going back to tying the laces of his football boots.

It was yet another ridiculous rumour that Juan was headed to _yet another_ Premier League club. The week before he was on his way back to Spain. The week before that Chelsea was supposedly going to offload him to a random German team. The Asturian was in a position where all he could do was laugh at the sheer insanity of the rumours surrounding his future. Multiple times the Chelsea hierarchy had assured him of his importance at the club in the new season and the seasons ahead so he knew his future as a blue was safe. 

Mourinho had even outright said in two or three press conferences that Juan was to go nowhere, but that didn’t stop the press from making up rumour after rumour about him (though it didn’t help that Jose said all managers lie in their press conferences). From what he could remember, he’d seen Arsenal, Spurs, Man United, Man City, Real Madrid, Barcelona, Valencia and Atletico Madrid mentioned as his potential new clubs. And those were only the ones he could think of off the top of his head; there were probably dozens more that he hadn’t managed to see on Twitter.

However, with Fernando it was a different deal, though the striker was determined to see out his contract at Chelsea, unlike Juan he hadn’t received any affirmation from the club’s powers that his position at Chelsea was locked down. Jose had mentioned that he intended to work with Fernando and try to improve his overall game, but he hadn’t come outright and said anything definitive like he had with the speculation about Juan. And although the striker would never say it aloud, he was slightly worried that the club would offload him before the end of the transfer window. He wasn’t worried about leaving, he had been half expecting it since the end of his first season in West London, but Fernando was more worried about having to leave Juan.

Throughout the trials and tribulations that had been Fernando’s Chelsea career, Juan had been there, and ultimately been Fernando’s rock. Olalla understood him like no one else, she was his other half emotionally and figuratively, but with Juan it was almost as if they’d known each other their whole lives, not only a few years.

“Nando, you coming outside?” Juan asked, laying a hand lightly on Fernando’s shoulder. Fernando looked around and noticed they were the only two left in the changing room as he saw Eden running out and shouting at Kevin as he did so. 

Fernando pushed himself up off the bench and went outside to see the team gathered in a circle around the manager. 

It was an almost unspoken rule that there were never big discussions about whether people would be leaving or not during the transfer window. Commonly, players would talk to the two or three players they trusted the most, for fear of their desire to stay or go would get out in the media. 

Though they’d spent the whole transfer window laughing at the sheer stupidity of the majority of the rumours surrounding them, Juan had never outright asked Fernando whether he wanted to stay or not.

Whilst they were paired for pre-training stretches, Juan tried to broach the subject.

“Do…do you think you’d want to go somewhere else during this transfer window?” Juan asked quietly as they leaned on one another to stretch their quads. 

A second passed as they switched the muscle they were stretching. “Of course not, I thought you knew that. Who else would sing El Canto Del Loco with me?” Fernando’s grin widened at his teammate.

Juan let out a breathy laugh in response, he could envisage their colleagues expressions of amusement when he, Fernando and Cesar would often break out into an impromptu sing a long of a number from the band’s back catalogue. It was attempting to cover the relief that Juan felt, he couldn’t imagine being a Chelsea player without Fernando.

“I’d only ever want to go back to Atleti, and that’s where I want to retire - but I hope that’s still a few years away!” Fernando playfully nudged Juan in the side as they both kneeled on the lush grass of the Cobham pitches and continued their warm up. 

The rest of the session passed like any other, the London sun flowing down over the training complex. After another tactics meeting and lunch, the players were finally allowed to leave.

“Want to come over, Olalla is making paella and frisuelos for dessert?” Fernando offered, tempting the younger man with his favourite Asturian dessert. 

“What type of paella?” Juan asked, although he was already putting his own car keys back in his pocket and making his way over to Fernando’s car.

“Valenciana, of course!” Fernando threw the younger man a look that said _duh_.

 

“Tío Juan!” Juan guffawed as Nora threw herself at him, hitting him square in the knees. It always warmed Juan’s heart when Fernando’s kids called him ‘tío’, they were both wonderful children and he felt privileged to be a part of their childhood.

Olalla greeted him with a wide grin and a kiss to either cheek before presenting him with a glass. Juan brought it up to his nose and immediately was filled with images of his birthplace. “Asturian cider?” He questioned and Fernando’s wife nodded and gestured at him to drink up.

“Were you planning this meal or something?” Juan asked Fernando as they sat on the decking watching Nora and Leo splash about in their paddling pool.

“Nah,” Fernando chuckled sipping his cerveza. “We always have some of that in the fridge in case you come over.” The sense of, not exactly finality, but contentment in Fernando’s voice made him realise how ingrained they were in each other’s lives. Much like the Torres’, Juan always had Nora and Leo’s favourite juice in his fridge, almond milk for Olalla’s coffee and a box of Fernando’s preferred cereal in his pantry because they were over so often. 

The next few minutes passed in silence, the only sounds being heard were the carefree shrieks of Fernando’s children. Juan let his head fall back and rested it on the back of the chair, allowing his gaze to wander up to the blue sky, his eyes slipped closed and the sun’s rays warmed his face. He could feel himself drifting off into a light sleep until he felt a weight on his lap which startled him. Juan opened his eyes when he felt a little finger poking into his cheek.

“Are you okay, Tío Juan?” Leo asked looking concerned. The boy had clearly just run over from being in the paddling pool, his wet shorts letting the water seep into Juan’s trousers. 

“I’m fine thank you, hombrecito.” Juan ran a hand through Leo’s curls and the little boy leant into his touch before curling up against Juan’s chest. 

“Juanito, have you seen this one?”

Juan looked over at Fernando who was staring intently at his phone and laughing aloud.

“Apparently Colwyn Bay have launched a bid for you!”

Juan couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh, his cheeks hurting from being stretched so wide.

**Author's Note:**

> Tío = Uncle  
> hombrecito = Little man  
> Colwyn Bay = A team in the [Conference North](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Conference_North), managed by former Chelsea player Frank Sinclair


End file.
